


Prologue

by FutureJetBlackHearts (MyLovelyHopefulLifetoLive)



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Accidental Pregnancy, Angst, Established Relationship, F/M, Flashbacks, Reflection on Past Events
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 12:19:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11668995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyLovelyHopefulLifetoLive/pseuds/FutureJetBlackHearts
Summary: As the title suggests.





	Prologue

 Unraveling before you is not an unusual sight, but it is one that particularly pulls at your heartstrings. It is one where you find your husband Tyler submerged and isolated in darkness, sitting at the foot of your shared Queen sized bed rather than enjoying the intimate celebration currently happening in your living room. A sully expression frames his face, his head hangs low and his eyes dangerously study his calloused hands which are folded over his lap.

“What if I hadn't realized it?”

Knowing that you're at a mere distance from him—on the other side of the open bedroom door that is—, he lets the heavy question spill from his lips precariously. Here, no visual contact is necessary to understand the extent of his anguish. “But you did Tyler and that's what's important” you say in a consoling matter, an attempt to ease him of his anxious-driven thoughts.

Unfortunately, it is met with his static state.

“C'mon, let's go back downstairs. We don't want to miss anything, now, do we? ” You encourage him this time as you step into your shared bedroom and walk towards your brunet husband.

Yet, even though you stand in front of him, he still doesn't respond in any form. And so begins another incitation technique.

“Tyler, please. Our guests are going to notice eventually that the birthday girl's parents are missing” You plead and even extend your hand towards his, a form of motivation to walk back down the stairs.

This does elicit a response, just an unexpected one, that is, one driven by anger and laced with self-culpability.

“Don't _Tyler_ me!”

An unwanted gasp escapes your throat due to the unexpected and unwanted nature of Tyler's exclamation. Knowing that you're probably going to demand an apology, or at least an explanation regarding this unusual behavior, Tyler not only sends a brown-eyed apologetic glance in your way, which you greatly appreciate, but also proceeds to explain what triggered the situation through his next strings of words.

Knowing support, a listening ear in this case, will be of great use to him, you take the seat next to his, intertwine your fingers with his, a gesture which relieves him immensely, and tip your head on his shoulder.

“Can you believe it (Y/N)?” He announces in adoration more to himself than to you as he stares at the wooden staircase outside the bedroom. “Emily's already five.” Before you can add any commentary, he continues. “Funny how the things we don't want often end up being the things we never thought we needed.”

“You know, I realized something today.” he continues in the same tone, then explains. “She's at that age where she'll be curious, where she'll want to learn about everything. She'll want to know about how Mommy and Daddy got together, how babies are made, that type of stuff.”

Before you can interject or add your views at the prospect of this daunting yet exciting fresh chapter of yours, Tyler's and your daughter's life, he tightly squeezes your hand then lets the most painful statement as of late pass his lips. The latter is made up of a combination of internal distress and chagrin as well as dread.

“(Y/N)” Your name escapes his lip in a brittle tone, signaling that he’s on the brink of tears. “We can't lie to her. Where would that put us as parents? And, what about me? How do exactly am I supposed to explain my position in all of this? That I was so dumb, I missed your entire pregnancy?”

By the time Tyler’s finished pondering over these haunting questions, he’s sniffling, a vulnerable action that prevents you from consoling him with empathic words, in this case “Tyler, how could you have known? ” but instead forces you to bring his head to your chest in a sympathetic manner.

As you remain locked in this sheltered position, several possible solutions to this trivial situation cross each of your minds, although neither of you dare to orate them verbally. One stands out in particular: reflecting on how your relationship’s past strains have not only shaped your relation but your person as well. As mundane this solution is, it is also the most favorable. After all, if there’s one thing you’ve learned from these strains, is that Tyler and you eventually have made the best judgments concerning weighty concerns. This given one will be just an added interference to face.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this story. Feedback would be appreciated.


End file.
